Papillon
by iVampChick
Summary: They all committed a crime, and they all arrive at Papillon Detention Center. They fall in love, they try to escape, and nothing is stable except for one thing: Their friendship.
1. The Beginning

**I decided to start a new story just for the heck of it, even though I'm waist deep in my other one. Pretty serious language and drug use, and maybe? sex. Of course, using drugs ain't OK.**

**I don't own the Clique characters. That's Lisi Harrison's job.**

It wasn't Massie Block's fault. It wasn't. It was her stupid weed dealer. Her weed dealer decided to call the cops on her.

It was a mundane Thursday morning and Massie was low on weed, as the previous night she made had some joints for her "friends." So she went to her weed dealer, who was always in the Westchester park, near the duck pond.

_Massie Block made her way to the duck pond on Thursday morning of a nippy March day. Looking at her watch, it signaled she only had a few hours before he went for his day job. He was, as usual, watching the ducks feed in the early morning, his shaggy blond hair long and puppy-brown eyes watchful for any narcs. There were 2 benches, and a man with dark shades, perma-tanned skin, and a grey Ralph Lauren polo was on one of them, watching the ducks as well. Massie rolled her eyes at the man, because wearing shades when the sun was barely high was an idiotic idea._

_Massie glanced at her watch, reading that the time was 7:37 a.m., then made her way to the weed dealer. "Hey, Derrick," She said coolly. She handed the shaggy haired man 30 dollars. He proceeded to give her a big baggie full of weed. But as he was giving it to her, he stopped midway. She raised a curious eyebrow. He sighed._

"_Listen, Massie, they caught me dealing. This is so I'll stay out of jail. I'm sorry," He winced apologetically. Massie suddenly became aware of what was going on. She was caught in the act._

"_Ma'am, put your hands in the air!" A voice cried behind her. The man with the shades was an undercover cop. She slowly raised her arms above her head. Her slow brain took a while to register everything._

_A narc caught Derrick._

_Derrick is working for the narcs._

_A narc caught Massie getting her weed._

_Massie wasn't getting her weed._

_Massie was handcuffed while the narc mumbled something in Spanish. "I'll take you down to the courthouse. The judge will see if he'll put you in prison, or not," he said to Massie in English._

_Massie was walked down to the courthouse by a cop and he finally looked the part when he put on his 'Westchester Officer' badge and put on his hat. The judge frowned when he saw Massie, his greasy hair slicked back and had on circular glasses._

"_Massie Anne Block," He said, reading her file. "Age 24. Born in Westchester, New York on August 31rst. Marijuana addict. Currently unemployed from working at Dairy Queen for 1 year." He frowned again, staring down a trembling Massie. "You know I can put you in jail?"_

_Massie nodded. "Y-Yes, your Honor," She said shakily._

"_How long have you using this drug now?" Massie felt like crying, her knees knocking._

"_3 years now, your Honor," She sniffled, holding back tears even though things were getting blurry._

"_Officer Josh Hotz, who is the drug dealer, and where does he get it from?" The judge growled out._

"_Your Honor, his name is Derrick James Harrington. He gets it from Mala, Peru," Josh Hotz replied so quickly that if Massie wasn't about to burst into tears she would have made fun of his Boy Scout-like attitude around the judge._

"_I've made my decision." The judge announced. Massie held her breath nervously. It was the moment of truth. The judge would either throw her in prison, or let her free._

"_As of today, March 16th, Massie Anne Block, age 24, marijuana addict, will go to Papillon Detention Center for 5 years," he snarled out as he slammed the mallet down._

_Massie couldn't believe it. It was her first time doing an offense! 5 years just for abusing weed? "That's unfair!" She cried out, her brown bob getting messy, amber eyes lighten up with hatred. "I've never done an offense before!"_

_The judge motioned for Josh to take the screaming girl away from his gaze. Josh nodded and tugged on the back of her North Face purple fleece jacket. "Come on, Massie," The cop said quietly. "Let's go."_

_Massie wouldn't go. She screamed insults to the judge about his mother, about how unfair it was, and things Massie couldn't even remember saying. All she remembered was the judge's face get redder and redder, then she blacked out._

_Massie woke up in the back of a copper's cruiser, her fleece jacket keeping her warm on a chilly March day. Her heart felt heavy with so many feelings she never faced because she was constantly high. She sat up, and looked out the window. She saw a large, dark building loom closer._

"_Ah, Massie," the narc said as he noticed the brunette had finally awoken, his olive skin looking flawless. "You finally got up. Good thing too, because Papillon is right there."_

_Massie was led, by Josh, in handcuffs, into the dark building. A woman behind glass was there, working on an intense Sudoku puzzle, her name tag reading, "Susie." _

_Josh knocked on the glass then waved kindly. The lady's face lit up. Then dampened when she the messy haired, hostile-looking brunette glaring at her, her hands behind her back held by silver handcuffs._

_Massie watched Susie in an angry fashion. She heard her buzz, "New inmate?" Josh nodded. "OK, you know where the clothes are." Josh saluted her, than pushed Massie into a bare room with a closet. _

"_OK, I need to know your size, and breast size." Massie blushed._

"_Why?"_

_Josh quickly realized his mistake. "Oh, I'm not hitting on you! You need clothing in prison." Massie blushed again and then told him. _

_The officer handed her the clothing, even underwear, and allowed her to change into the orange jumpsuit._

_He then led her through a door, into a narrow hallway surrounded by cages, and then put her into an empty cell. Massie curled up into a ball, sobbing, her arms hugging the extra clothes and her jacket close to her chest as she wept._

Alicia Rivera had a teensy problem. When she saw something that she liked, she took it. This made it difficult to shop for anything, even groceries, because she always was tempted to get some Oreos or a box of Twinkies. And when Alicia Rivera wants something, she gets it.

It didn't really help the fact that she read Vogue and Elle all the time. Those kinds of magazines were filled with things she wanted desperately after seeing and reading about, but could never afford with her pitiful job as a waitress at Olive Garden and her other, equally pathetic job as a cashier at Kroger's.

_It was the afternoon of March 16th, and Alicia was at Olive Garden, helping a middle aged couple decide what to get for their lunch. Alicia noticed the woman's Kenneth Cole black satin shirt. Her heart leaped when she saw it, as it had been in this month's Elle._

_Mindlessly, Alicia jumped onto the table to reach for the lady's shirt, grabbing and trying to tear it off as the lady screamed for help and the man dodged the waitress's long legs._

"_GIVE. IT!" Alicia screamed, using every ounce of strength to get her longed-for shirt. Her long, black hair was thrashing wildly as she desperately clawed the shirt._

"_CALL THE POLICE! CALL THE POLICE!" the woman yelled, terrified. Her husband called the cops, his fingers slipping._

"_JUST GIVE ME THE DAMN SHIRT!"_

"_NO!"_

"_Yes, there's an INSANE Olive Garden waitress trying to take my wife's shirt off!" He bellowed into the phone._

_Moments later, the police came and had to pry Alicia off of the frazzled woman. She was put into the cruiser, sulking._

_The cops drove to a courthouse, where she was put into handcuffs and led into the court._

_There was a judge with slick, greasy hair, tiny spectacles, and a mustache. When he saw Alicia with her wild hair, he took a giant leap away from her direction. "Not YOU again!" He sputtered out. An officer handed her file to the judge. "I've read you're file so many times, Rivera, I'm surprised I don't know it by heart!" He snapped again at the Latina._

"_Alicia Catalina Rivera, age 24. Born in __Barcelona__, Spain on November 14__th__," He read in an annoyed tone. "A thief. Currently employed at Olive Garden since last September and Kroger's since last October." He slammed down her file. "I've seen you 2 months ago!" He bellowed loudly._

"_Bernie," Alicia pleaded. "I'm sor-"_

"_DO NOT CALL ME THAT! I WILL BE ADRESSED AS YOUR HONOR!" He screamed, his face turning red. "NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU COME INTO THIS COURTHOUSE, YOU WILL NOT ADRESS ME BY MY FIRST NAME!"_

"_Your Honor, I'm sorr-"_

"_Stop. TALKING!" His neck veins were bulging out now as he slammed the mallet down. "Last time I've seen you, you chased a woman down onto the ground, screaming, 'The bag! I want your bag!' You were sentenced for 72 hours in a cell in the Police Department because I was in a good mood. I now sentence you for 5 years in Papillon Detention Center!" He brought the mallet down over and over just to confirm it. "And I NEVER want to see you again, Rivera. Is that CLEAR?!"_

"_Yes, Bernie."_

"_YOUR HONOR!"_

"_Yes, Your Honor." Alicia looked down at her shoes, too humiliated to look up at Bernard Conway. She was still wearing her Olive Garden apron too! How could this day get any worse?_

_She was led back into the cruiser, lost in her thoughts. Before she knew it, she saw the darkest building she had ever seen. The officer led Alicia and into the structure, who was undoubtful this was Papillon._

_A woman behind Plexiglas, obviously for protection from more violent prisoners, but Alicia didn't care about "Susie." She thought about her jobs. Alicia felt a familiar pang. She would lose both jobs and get yet another bad streak on her criminal record._

_The cop took Alicia into a naked room with only a large, wooden armoire. "I need your cup size, shoe size, and normal size." Alicia was used to this procedure. She had been to jail twice, but it was only for, at most, 5 days._

"_Double D cup, 22-24 M, 7." The cop raised his eyebrows. Even though Alicia was skinny, her bust forced her to go to bigger clothing. She was, no doubt, embarrassed by her large breasts, and quickly changed into the unsightly jumpsuit and Fast Flats. But Elle and Vogue had failed her. They tempted her with rich girl clothes, and poisoned her mind to steal the glamorous clothes. The jumpsuit looked OK, even if it didn't really cling to her small frame._

_The officer led Alicia past a door and into a narrow hallway full of menacing women behind bars and chose a cage where there was only one young lady in there, and she was limp on her bunk bed, like a rag doll. The cop let Alicia in wordlessly._

Alicia looked around the cell the officer had just let her into. It was larger then some of the other cells and 3 bunk beds had been squeezed in, and there was still room for a mattress. There was a toilet and a faucet that only ran cold water. There was no soap, so Alicia winced at the uncleanly ness of it all. Against one of the walls, there was a small desk with a chair. _Not much to look at,_ Alicia thought.

She decided to go check out her cell mate. The young girl was on her back, amber eyes wide open, never blinking. Alicia was a little creeped out.

The reason Massie wasn't blinking or moving was because she was trying not to think. If she had survived 3 years without intense thought, Massie could sure survive 1 day.

Alicia saw her snap her attention to the Latina. "Who are you?" Alicia asked politely.

"Massie Block." _She seems a little… weird, but maybe that was because she was on drugs or something,_ Alicia kept this thought to herself.

"I'm Alicia Rivera. I'll be staying here for a while now, so I'll might as well make some friends." She smiled a little. Massie grinned back, and scooted over to make room for her cell mate. Alicia gratefully took it.

"So, uh, what'd you get caught doing?" Alicia noticed Massie's words slurred when she spoke, and her amber eyes seemed kinda fuzzy, but there was something about Massie that demanded respect.

"I tried to steal a woman's shirt," Alicia said sheepily. Massie burst out laughing, unable to control herself.

"Did you see her BOOBIES?!" Massie shrieked out. Alicia giggled despite her will to remain composed.

"I couldn't get it off!" The two girls kept laughing until their sides hurt. Now Alicia wanted to know.

"So how'd you get into the cage?" Alicia asked. Massie's face suddenly got tight and her amber eyes cleared.

Massie felt herself snap, and she began punching a pillow angrily. "Stupid! Dealer! Narc!" Massie growled. Alicia loyally waited until her new friend calmed down. Massie let out a deep breath when she finished, and her morning joint did its work and calmed her down. Her eyes began to get fuzzy.

She began to speak slowly. "I was almost out of weed, so I went to my dealer, because dime bags are like shit, y'know? I went to him, gave him my hard-earned dollars to get the smoothest, biggest bag of weed I've ever bought of him. Just when he's gonna give me the shit, he says to me, "The narcs got me. I gotta stay outta jail, y'know?" So my long trusted dealer turns me in to save his own ass." Massie finished her curse-filled tale of woe.

Alicia could tell Massie was under the influence of drugs the moment she got a good look at her. Massie was always looked disoriented, but that just made Alicia like Massie more. She was full of flaws, just like Alicia, but she was a good leader.

"Hey, let's stick together, alright?" Alicia nudged Massie gently and grinned. Massie gave her a dazed, yet sharp smile. "Sure. We'll stick together no matter what life throws at us."

That's how Massie and Alicia began the Pretty Committee.

**Wow, this took forever. Be sure to review about any concerns or whatever. It was fun writing this, so see you next time!**

**/Ollies Out/**


	2. The Beginning Part 2

**Sorry, sorry, sorry! I was trying to work on an OC contest for the Clique, and I haven't finished it yet. My other story, Up Or Down, you should check it out, I'm kind of in a writer's block for that.**

**The feedback was awesome! The more, the better, so review if you got some concerns or opinions.**

**This might seem obvious, but I want to point it out now to avoid confusion. The Pretty Committee is not rich. They never went to a prestigious private school as their parents could never afford it. They never met either.**

Kemp Hurley was taught as a child that honesty is the only way to go. He was also taught that bodies are natural and shouldn't be disgusted upon seeing one, nude or not. As his mother put it, "flowers and trees are natural, and no one is disgusted with them." As a result, Kemp had grown up to be a brutally honest and nudist man.

Kemp enjoyed working out. He wasn't a body builder, but he did have some muscles. He went to the YMCA to work out once a week. He always hoped his disgusting job as a janitor at a preppy private school would be enough to pay for the membership.

_One nippy, March afternoon, Kemp was at the YMCA, working out. After an hour, he decided to go take a hot shower._

_He stripped down, tossed his clothes into an empty stall, singing softly "Sweet Caroline."_

"_Sweet Caroline, bum bum bum, something something something something. I've been inclined…" He washed down his body with an Irish Spring soap bar, leaving his almost-afro for the end. "Bum bum bum, something something something something."_

_Kemp began to gently massage his scalp with Axe shampoo. Skipping the rest of the song as he didn't know the lyrics, he finished his rather short shower._

_Kemp reached for his thin white towel, gathering up his toiletries. His hand groped nothing. He tried again, looking now. "Damn FUCK!" He cursed quietly. "Did I forget that towel again? I could have sworn…" He slapped his wet forehead angrily. "Don't tell me I left that piece of… trash," He said quickly as a 4 year old walked by his shower stall. "In my car!" He finished._

_There is only one solution, Kemp thought. I got to get my towel._

_Kemp walked out of his shower stall in his full glory, no shoes. Walking to the door, he spotted a 7 year old girl staring at him. Kemp just grinned at her. "EW!" She screamed, running into the family changing room._

_Strutting past the reception desk, a worker frowned at him, covering his eyes. A naked Kemp was about to walk out to his tiny blue Beatle waiting patiently._

_The worker quickly grabbed his phone and dialed the police. "Yes, Officer? There is a young man walking around stark naked." He gave the location, feeling satisfied._

_2 minutes later, a cruiser pulls up. "Sir, we have arrest you for indecent exposure." A woman yelled out, pulling out a Taser. Kemp raised an eyebrow._

"_What?"_

_The officer ignored him and shoved him, still nude, into the cop car._

"_Where are we going?" Kemp asked innocently as he got handcuffed._

"_The courthouse. The judge will decide what he'll do with you," she answered back steadily, her blonde hair tied up in a bun._

"_What's your name?" Kemp grinned at her, trying to appear sexy with all of his (lower) might._

"_Are you flirting with me?" She squinted at him with her teal eyes, trying to read his mind._

"_Yes."_

_She sighed and pulled him out of the white-and-blue cop cruiser, leading him into the courthouse. A young, tanned lady with black hair and an Olive Garden apron was being forced out by another police officer. Kemp noticed her, but she didn't seem to see him._

_Inside, there was a greasy-haired man wearing a navy robe. He had a mustache and tiny, round glasses. His face was the color of lava._

"_Dear God, not another one!" He screamed out. "I'm up to my neck in prisoners! Why's he naked? Officer Sky Hamilton, go get this man some clothing, and get that file!"_

_The police officer handed him Kemp's file, rushing away to get some clothes for the young man._

_The judge cleared his throat. "Kemp Richard Hurley, age 24. Born in Atlanta, Georgia on May 5th," He squinted at Kemp, trying to read the young male's expression. "You don't have a record, do you, Kemp?"_

"_No, Your Honor," Kemp muttered as Sky handed him a maroon hoodie and grey sweatpants._

_The judge quickly turned back to the file. "Worked at Octave County Day as a janitor since last year." He threw the file onto the pedestal. He began to growl at Kemp. "You went around the YMCA, as naked as a rock! How in the world did this happen?!"_

"_I took a shower and forgot my towel in my car."_

"_Why didn't you just put on your clothes?"_

_Kemp looked thoughtfully into the judge's eyes. "I don't know."_

"_YOU ADRESS ME AS YOUR HONOR! Where did you think going around naked is OK?!"_

"_MY MOM, YOUR HONOR!" Kemp started to get aggravated, which normally didn't happen. He was a mellow man. My mom isn't wrong, Kemp thought angrily. She isn't._

_The judge's face started to flush. "THAT'S IT! TODAY, MARCH 16TH, KEMP RICHARD HURLEY WILL BE SENTENCED TO PAPILLON DENTION CENTER FOR 5 YEARS!" He slammed the mallet down 4 times. "NOW GET HIM OUT OF MY SIGHT!"_

_Sky wordlessly pulled a now silent Kemp into her car, driving fast, almost to the point of speeding. He stared out the window, cursing the judge and his ugly mustache._

_Sky pulled into a dark building's parking lot. Kemp observed that the building was very long, dark, and full of depression._

"_Welcome to Papillon," She snarled at Kemp, dragging him into the building, past a woman behind glass, and into a bland room the color of oatmeal._

"_I need your size and shoe size, Kemp." He told her, and then changed into the orange jumpsuit. When he finished, Sky pulled him through a door._

_Beyond the door were growling woman in cages, gripping the bars and howling like gorillas. The narrow hallway led to a chain link fence with a door. Sky dashed through the door, going incredibly fast despite yet another narrow hallway._

_Beyond the door was the male section of Papillon. Just as the women, men were hooting as they saw a lovely Sky, gnashing their teeth at Kemp. She looked around for an empty cell, finally deciding to use a rather large one, with only one bunk bed when the others had at least 2._

"_Have fun," she teased, closing the cage's door behind her, locking in the man._

Dylan Marvil was always… bigger then any other girl she knew. She had soon learned that those "other girls" were rich and her family wasn't.

Mrs. Marvil was a loving mother, and nurtured her 3 daughters even though she did it all alone on minimum wage.

Mrs. Marvil's daughters all had curly, red hair and were all a little chubby. They were her prides and joys, and their names were Jamie, Ryan, and Dylan. She had named them after her favorite celebrities, Jamie Foxx, Ryan Walker Longwell, and Bob Dylan.

Jamie was the eldest, and was always an artsy-fartsy sort of person, her bright blue eyes lighting up with joy whenever she painted something nice or found a Grandma Moses painting, which wasn't hard, living in the richest place in New York.

Ryan, like the man she was named after, was more of an athlete, her cinnamon-brown eyes dead serious whenever she played football with the boys next door or when she played soccer with a can against her sisters.

Dylan, the baby of the family, had her mother's catlike green eyes and dimples. She wasn't good at painting or sports. She wasn't good at anything except being Momma's baby. The girls were all close to their mother, but Dylan was the closest.

Mrs. Marvil always longed to be famous, but never could. She worked at a food court at the Westchester mall. They all lived in a rickety apartment in a crime-filled neighborhood, but it wasn't ever a problem with the Marvils.

They never discussed their father, because he left after Mrs. Marvil was pregnant with Dylan. Mrs. Marvil knew he was cheating on her, having an affair with other women, cheating on those women too. She pitied them, but never broke ties with her husband.

Years later, all the Marvil kids had grown up and left the apartment. Mrs. Marvil could no longer work, and didn't have enough money to go to a resting home. The Marvil girls agreed to put their hard-earned dollars together to help support their loving mother and put her into Wooden Bridge Nursing Home.

However, Dylan's job didn't allow her to pay much for her ailing mom and support herself as well. There was only one choice. She would have to hold up a rich-person restaurant.

_Dylan was outside of Fertucci's Pizzeria, where customers got to customize a pizza for an outrageous price. Dylan knew too well that only rich people could afford to go there. The people of her neighborhood could never eat there, only the scraps._

_Dylan pulled back her thick hair into a bun then fingered her black ski mask with holes in it for her eyes and mouth. Would she really do this? Yes, she thought. For Mom._

_She took out a fake gun made of wood a neighbor whittled for her. Dylan pulled on the mask. It was now or never. Time to nut up or shut up. Whichever cheesy advice her brain gave her, Dylan knew this was the only time. It started to grow dark outside. Good, she thought. I'll blend in with the shadows._

"_EVERYONE KEEP YOUR HEADS DOWN!" Dylan screamed out, waving around the realistic-looking gun. "I NEED Y'ALL TO COOPERATE WITH ME. HABD ME YOUR WALLETS AND GET ME THAT CASH REGISTER!" Dylan yelled out in a gruff voice. Everyone began to scream until it was a terrified chorus. Just for emphasis, Dylan walked over to a cowering man. "WHERE'S YOUR WALLET?!" She bellowed into his ear._

"_Dear God, don't hurt me!" He whimpered out. Shakily, he handed Dylan his wallet. Dylan nodded to him, pleased with herself._

"_EVERYONE WILL GIVE ME THEIR WALLETS UNLE-" A siren rang out. The police siren. Someone had called the cops onto Dylan._

"_Come out with your hands raised and drop the weapon!" A voice rang out. She slowly raised her arms and dropped the fake gun. A male officer dashed out and grabbed Dylan's wrists, taking out his handcuffs. "You are under arrest!" He snapped. He ripped off Dylan's ski mask, revealing to all it was a whimpering, cowardly girl._

_Thrown into the cop cruiser, Dylan's lip began to tremble. This wasn't supposed to get out of hand! She thought. I'm going to go to jail!_

_The police man began to drive for a while, finally stopping at a big, marbleized building. He dragged her inside silently._

_This is a courthouse, Dylan thought. The judge was rubbing his temples and groaning loudly. He looked up, his curly mustache wrinkling in disgust at the filthy girl. "Another one? FILE!" He suddenly bellowed._

_The cop gave Dylan's file to the judge. He cleared his throat dramatically. "Dylan Megan Marvel, age 24," he suddenly stopped when he looked down. Dylan was trying to get his attention. "WHAT?!" He snapped, annoyed._

"_It's pronounced Mar-vell, your Honor," she corrected softly, on the verge of tears._

"_Anyway," he growled, giving Dylan the evil eye. "Born in St. Paul, Minnesota on July 17th. Previously, you tried to steal a woman's wallet. You have been employed by Half Price Books for 6 years, and Macy's for 8 years." He slammed down the mallet. "I've come to my decision!" He yelled. "On March 16th, Dylan Megan Marvil will be sentenced to Papillon Detention Center for 6 years!"_

_Dylan was silent, but the tears spoke for themselves. The rolled down her cheeks in a fleet of salty boats. _

_The officer gently led Dylan into the car once more, and quickly arrived to a long building that was the color of a shadow. Dylan was still crying, silently asking for her mother and God to forgive her._

_The officer led her to a room with only a closet in it. The lady in the front was concentrating on something on her desk and ignored Dylan's sobs._

"_Bust size, shoe size, and clothing sizes are needed," the cop said gently, trying not to disturb the redhead too much._

"_Um… B cup, 7, and 20-24, L," Dylan tried to smile even if her nose was snotty._

_After she had changed, he led her through a door and into a narrow hallway surrounded by jail cells. After thinking for a moment, he motioned for her to go into a cage with a Latina with giant breasts and a brunette that appeared to be disoriented. He quickly shut the door behind him and walked away._

The new girl had a snotty nose and tear-tracked cheeks. She had curly red hair piled into a bun and was a little… big. Alicia noted all these things.

"Hey, what's your name?" Alicia asked. "I'm Alicia Rivera and this is Massie Block." Massie gave a hazy smile.

The redhead tried to smile back. "I'm D-Dylan Marvil." She wiped her face, but her green eyes were still puffy and red.

The Latina continued to pepper the redhead with questions. Massie just sat quietly and spoke when she could.

"How old are you?"

"24."

"Cool! So are we."

"I got here from trying to rip a girl's shirt off." Alicia giggled. Massie shook with silent laughter and Alicia smacked her.

"I came here from my weeeed dealer," Massie slurred.

"I tried to hold up Fertucci's Pizzeria," Dylan's face grew serious then twisted into a mess again. She fell onto Massie's bed and began sobbing.

"I'm sorry Mom… I'm sorry… You're gonna get thrown ouuuuuut…" Each sentence brought fresh tears.

Even though Massie was still in a haze, she could understand that her new friend was in distress. When the redhead finally calmed down, she hugged her new friend comfortingly. Alicia joined in as well. They shooshed the redhead as she was still shaking with dry sobs.

"You smell like weed," Dylan giggled out as she was sandwiched between her new friends. Massie's eyes crossed.

"I am weeeed." They all began to rock with a brand new set of giggles.

Wow, so many feels! Took me forever to write this though, so be sure review! I love writing, and this is my 2nd work and I plan to write some Batman fanfics soon. Go check out Up Or Down! I'll be uploading that chapter up soon. I'm currently making a Submit your OC contest, so go check that out.


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